El Milagro de Scully
by Guera Mexicana
Summary: Sorry, this is not in Spanish. Mulder helps Scully after the events in Milagro.


So, I just watched Milagro again and I can't get this story out of my head...

Training completely took over as I stared down Padgett. Of course he was trying to destroy the evidence. He was guilty. I shouted at him to stop, but he sure seemed keen on ignoring me. Just as I was about to take further action I heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire. Not just once. Not in a short burst either. It was continual. It just kept going. I forgot Padgett entirely and rushed back to my apartment. There was no way I was even going to try to wait for the elevator. I bounded up the stairs 3 at a time and made it to my hall. It was then that I realized the shots stopped. Time slowed to a turtle's pace as I braced myself for what might be on the other side of that door. _Be calm._ I told myself. _Remember all that training._ I fixed myself, ready to open the door and be alert.

But there was no danger. Not anymore. My partner was lying on the floor covered in blood. I couldn't believe it. _No!_ I shouted in my head. I took a deep swallow and knelt by her side. I wasn't sure what to do. Check for a pulse? Try to stop the bleeding? I reached out to touch her, but suddenly she jolted. Her eyes flew open. Total fear. That's all it was. She was terrified! Then she saw me. I don't know how long I held her, but I wasn't going to be the first to let go.

We were both utterly confused. She was no longer hurt. There was no hole in her chest like the others. But there was a lot of blood. When she finally relinquished her grip I picked her up. I still held her. I waited for her to be ready. I wondered how on earth we would explain this to anyone. I knew covering up the evidence was out of the question. We still had to catch Padgett. Somehow. He was probably long gone. It's not like he had anything worth packing up.

Scully slowly pulled back and I led her to the couch. "I have to call Skinner," I said. She nodded. I took out my phone and dialed the number. "Sir, I have a situation that needs immediate attention. Can you come to my apartment?...Yes...right now. Alone."

We sat on the couch in silence until he got there. I stood up to answer the door and took a look back at her. _Here we go._ I thought. There would be no easy way out of the next 20 minutes or so. I opened the door and waited for the questions to come barreling at me.

"Agent Mulder, what is going on?" He saw my shirt covered in blood. I said nothing, but allowed him to enter. "Agent Scully!" He rushed to her but was soon relieved when he realized she was ok. "What happened here?"

"I'm not sure, sir. We were watching our suspect and when he left his apartment I followed him down to the basement where I confronted him. He was trying to throw his book into the incinerator. But I heard shots and ran back up here. I found Scully unconscious on the floor."

"Where is your suspect?"

"He, uh, got away, I guess."

"You left him in the basement?" It wasn't a question to accuse him of abandoning his suspect. He just wanted to make sure he knew what I said. Then he left.

Scully was still on the couch. She hadn't said a word. Her head was in her hands and she looked like she was going to burst at any second.

Finally Skinner returned. "Mulder, there's a dead man in your basement!"

"What?"

"He's on the ground with his heart in his hands. Would you care to explain any of this?"

"I think out of all the reports I've given you, this might be the unbelievable one." I looked at him, but he wasn't satisfied. So, I proceeded to tell him my theory. "I think the murderer, Naciamento, tried to kill Scully. But there's no wound. Just blood."

"You're right. That is unbelievable." He looked to Scully and back to me. "I'll take care of the suspect."

"I'll take care of Scully," I said. He nodded and left.

I went to my bathroom and started a bath. It would be the easiest way to clean her up. Then I went back to Scully and gently pulled her up. "We need to get you taken care of. This way." I led her to my room and silently begged for her forgiveness. I was about to get to know her pretty well. I noticed she also had blood in her hair. My poor, beautiful Scully. I started by removing her jacket. I finally saw the extent to her condition. Her white blouse was caked with blood that was just starting to dry. There was no way she would get this out. Hesitantly, I unbuttoned it. One at a time while looking for signs of injury, just in case. Before taking it completely off I also unbuttoned her pants. Gravity gave way and revealed her lower half. It was now or never. Gently, I pulled her underwear down to her ankles. Then I slipped my hands behind her back and unclasped her bra. It sprung forward slightly releasing its captives.

I looked at her. Her head was down. I couldn't tell what she was feeling. So, I lifted her chin a little. I wanted to look into her beautiful blue eyes. The moment reminded me of a time we were just like this. She had just been captured by Donnie Pfaster. We arrived in the nick of time to rescue her. She had tried to look brave in that moment, but now, I wasn't sure. She had never been so close to dying before. She had faced it many, many times. Scully gave me the tiniest smile allowing me to rescue her again.

Her blouse slipped so easily down her shoulders and her bra followed soon after. She was bare before me. Under normal circumstances I would have loved this. But, my thoughts were elsewhere. I just wanted to help her. I led her to the bath that was now full. I hoped it wasn't too hot. I didn't have her fancy bubbles or scented oils, but we would make this work. Luckily she was small enough to be fairly comfortable in my tub. I think she chose her apartment solely on the tub that came with it.

I left her and as fast as I could I changed my clothes. Just a simple t-shirt and sweats. Then I got a pitcher from the kitchen. When I returned I began by dipping the pitcher in the water and slowly pouring it over her head and shoulders. Blood was everywhere. Most of it rinsed away, but some would need scrubbing. I reached for my shampoo. She would end up smelling like me, but is that such a bad thing? I had to remember to be gentle and thorough. Her eyes were closed. Her face was blank. I didn't know what she was thinking. When her hair was rinsed clean I began scrubbing her shoulders. It wasn't too hard to get all the blood off and I knew I had to go lower. It was all over her chest, too. I looked at her again. Her eyes were still closed. She leaned her head back and propped it on the wall. Permission granted. As quickly as I could, I scrubbed her breasts. She had taken care of me like this countless times. It was my turn to return the favor. It wasn't until then that I could clearly see that she didn't have any hole. _How could this be?_ I wondered. I stroked the spot between her breasts where all the other victims had been ripped open. It was intact.

Gratefully I poured more water to wash away the remnants. Then I saw that the water was stained pink. I'd have to fix that, too. Wishing I could let her soak away the trauma I regrettably let the water go down the drain. It was time to turn on the shower and let her fully rinse off. I stood her up making sure she could do so independently and left to find the biggest, fluffiest towel I had.

I wrapped her up and just held her again. Her wet hair soaked my shirt. I rubbed her back in an effort to keep her warm. Once I was sure she was dry we went to my room. I sat her on the bed and searched for something she could wear. I quickly found a pair of boxers and another t-shirt. It was pretty big on her and I had to roll the band of the boxers so that they'd stay on. I threw back my blankets and placed her in my bed. After covering her up I turned to leave but she grasped my hand and held it firmly in hers. Another sign. So, I curled up next to her holding her until the day melted away.

We slept until late the next morning. I awoke before she did. I knew she couldn't stay in my clothes until the end of time, however nice that would be, so I left her a note and quietly left the apartment.

I had to trick myself into thinking that going through my partner's underthings was not the kind of thrill I'd fantasized about for years. I wasn't sure how many days worth of clothes she'd want, so I settled with 2 of everything. It was rare to see her in casual clothes but I managed to pick out some of the things I'd seen most recently. I rushed back to my apartment after grabbing some breakfast, too.

When I got home and saw her still in my bed I knew things were going to be ok.


End file.
